


the cold came on with a new found intensity

by jameaterblues



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Bosom Friends Indeed, Cold Weather, Consensual Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/F, Girls Kissing, Inspired by a Mountain Goats Song, Lesbian Diana Barry, My First Smut, My First Work in This Fandom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, References to the Mountain Goats, Romantic Friendship, Shameless Smut, Temperature Play, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameaterblues/pseuds/jameaterblues
Summary: Winter nights at Green Gables could be immeasurably cold. Since Anne’s arrival years ago, sh had been warned that on nights once the fire had died out, and even some nights when it raged wildly, the bedroom would get cold enough that one’s breath could be seen and that mountains of wool blankets could barely contain one’s warmth, and the frost so biting that nipped at any bare inch of skin. On this, the night of the solstice, the darkest and coldest night of that winter, Anne’s bedroom would normally have felt extraordinarily chilling. But for Anne and Diana, the biting cold felt somehow refreshing, and the only shivering was that of anticipation of their night together.
Relationships: Diana Barry/Anne Shirley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	the cold came on with a new found intensity

**Author's Note:**

> assuming they are aged-up slightly from ANNE WITH AN E, though i don't have firm ages or anything in mind.

Winter nights at Green Gables could be immeasurably cold. Since Anne’s arrival years ago, sh had been warned that on nights once the fire had died out, and even some nights when it raged wildly, the bedroom would get cold enough that one’s breath could be seen and that mountains of wool blankets could barely contain one’s warmth, and the frost so biting that nipped at any bare inch of skin. 

On this, the night of the solstice, the darkest and coldest night of that winter, Anne’s bedroom would normally have felt extraordinarily chilling. Everything in the room was cool to touch, and the frost had reached even Anne and Diana on top of the blankets on her bed as they read together. 

Winters of experience had taught both women that snuggling up against one another was the best way to keep warm. But for her and Diana, the biting cold felt somehow refreshing, and the only shivering was that of anticipation of their night together. As they opened the book of poetry to read aloud to one another, Anne kissed Diana’s cheek, and Diana’s whole body instantly felt like tinder lit quickly by a flame. 

When it was Anne’s turn to read the pages, Diana inched closer into their spooning - _for warmth_ , she insisted, and they kept at it like that, arms around each other, locked in a tight embrace. They spooned. And when Anne reached a particularly scandalous rhyme, Diana would try to reward her just slightly - a peck at the chin,on the sideburns, the cheek only when she felt particularly daring and the performance deserved such praise. And each time as she retreated into the frost falling softly onto the fiery hair of her beloved, Diana found Anne radiating heat from below. 

On Diana’s turn, Anne would untangle slightly, lazily resting her head on her shoulder as she became the big spoon and the listener. She would try to gently distract Diana, rubbing her hands along the girl’s side in big, slow, gentle, thorough movements - _for warmth, of course_ \- generating a shared knowing grin between them. _Don’t distract me_ , Diana would say politely in a cool, long exhale before continuing on with her readings. And Anne would obey for a few pages before impatiently reaching up Diana’s nightgown for a new position: carefully puckering her lips on Diana’s side, or brushing her fingers behind Diana’s knees just so that it would cause the reader to involuntarily flex at the ticklish gesture. 

They went back and forth, switching between reader and listener, until they reached the end of the book. As Diana closed the text, Anne found herself sitting up a bit straighter to sit overlooking her friend and look her in the eyes, eyebrows raised. Diana returned the invitation, propping herself up on her elbows. 

_What do you think, Anne? Was it good?_ Diana said, feeling rather proud of herself for holding out this long. 

_Oh, yes_ , Anne smiled rather knowingly. She took Diana’s hips into her hands and pushed her friend onto her back, and Diana giggled at the newfound, rich warmth of the sheets they had been nestled in all evening. 

As the women wrestled in the bed, the poetry book fell onto the floor. Both of them gasped at the loud sound, shocked more by the interruption of their passionate embrace than anything else. The shock caused Anne to lose her balance and fall on top of Diana. The two warm bodies pressed against each other met with the intense chilly air and they shrieked in delight before remembering there were others in the home. Diana took the moment as a chance to wriggle herself out from under Anne, gripping her friend’s red locks tightly in her hand and becoming overly affectionate with her fervent kisses on Anne’s neck. Moving methodically down, she bit at Anne’s breast, and Anne gasped at the pleasure in the pain, and how Diana was made bold in the cold 

Feeling brazen in the heat of the moment, Diana in her newfound intensity, pulled her nightgown up and over her head, throwing her hair and body back into the wind. Anne, who was so rarely at a loss for words, found herself dazzled by the beauty of her friend. She knew it was only the night playing tricks on her, but with Diana’s body framed by the window, it almost looked as if the snow falling outside was instead falling onto Diana’s pale skin and hair. 

It was a scene she would not forget as Anne blew out the candles beside her bed. Suddenly the cold room went entirely dark, only the pale light of the moon passing onto the floor beside them. They returned to their playfighting, finding one another through the movement of their quick hands. It was intoxicating to experience such exposure to the cold of the world around them as well as the warmth of one another. It made the both delirious, and they started grinding against one another. Their breaths became faster and deeper, their quiet sounds, and their hands squeezed tight together as they edged closer and closer. And after tiring themselves out from the playfulness of their post-reading engagement, they stopped to watch the night unfold. 

The two women laid together in the small bed, facing each other, now both naked underneath the many layers of blankets. Their outlines were barely visible in the darkness, though they could see the smiles on one another’s faces as they listened to Marilla walk up the stairs, down the hallway, and past the bedroom where the two young women tried to stay quiet. Remembering that they weren’t alone even in the cool, still night heightened their excitement. 

They stayed like that, not touching at all, lying together in a kind of secret beauty, until all the sounds inside the house had gone quiet. Only the wind outside, and the lone owl known for hiding in the rafters of the barn, could be heard making noise. 

Diana was the one to break the silence and stillness, as she took her hand to the top of Anne’s head, and began slowly drawing her fingers down the center of her friend’s face: through the soft red wisps at her hairline, across the pale skin of her forehead and freckles, between the eyebrows, along the slope of the very pretty nose, into the valley of the cleft above her lip. When Diana reached Anne’s mouth, she slightly rubbed her fingers onto the lips as if to silence Anne. Anne pushed her mouth just so to kiss them, but just as quickly as she had stopped, Diana’s finger continued - down to the tough chin, onto the soft and smooth neck, and down to the chest, right to the center of chest. Between Anne’s breasts, Diana placed her full hand and fused it to Anne’s burning skin. Diana’s eyes now looked up from her fingers to meet Anne’s eyes. She didn’t know what drew her to do such an intimate act, but it felt only as natural as the solstice itself. 

They breathed in unison, chests rising and falling synchronously, each woman waiting for the other to take charge of the moment. Now it seemed that even the owl had gone to sleep, or perhaps flown away, and the sounds of their breaths and heartbeats kept them alive. 

It was Anne this time, who brought her full hand to mirror Diana’s. Anne’s hand, however, was less of a fusing as a grasping, eliciting an enthusiastic alert in Diana’s eyes. She returned the favor of Diana’s intimate act in reverse, starting from the chest and slowly moving up to her face. As she reached Diana’s lips, however, she pushed her fingers to open them. Diana obliged and began to suck on Anne’s fingers gently, warming them with her mouth. 

With her other hand, Anne gripped Diana’s upper thigh, and Diana forgot the careful sucking as she involuntarily gaped. Pleased, Anne slowly danced her hand closer and closer to the place between her friend’s legs. 

_Do you trust me?_ said Anne, her whisper a tiny fire between them. 

_Yes_ , Diana said breathlessly, almost without thought, and Anne smirked at how easy it was to melt Diana when she wanted it most.

Anne finally removed her hand from Diana’s mouth and slipped it instead between Diana’s legs spread open and wide, and noted how wet her companion was even at the first brush of her fingers. With her other hand, she teased Diana, exploring her body and squeezing her breasts, roughly and then gently, using the rhythm to gain in intensity and heat. 

When she deemed Diana ready, Anne slid her clever fingers easily through the slick mess of a warm, sticky arousal. All too sensitive to this moment, having waiting for so long, Diana’s face became red as she slowly started to fuck herself on Anne’s fingers. Her muffled moans, careful not to awake the other members of the household, grew louder as Anne guided her friend’s bucking hips so sweetly. And through the pale moonlight that crossed over the bed, Anne could see how Diana was a flushed mess. And yet she touched her still: Diana, sensitive and achy by Anne’s touch, jumped at the over-sensitive and over-stimulated nerves. 

When Diana had finished coming, Anne found herself so pleased, and wrapped her friend in the embrace from earlier in the evening. _Goodnight_ , she whispered into Diana’s ear before dozing off in and out of consciousness. They were both radiant in the twilight, and the embers of their evening kept them warm into the wee hours of the night. 

When Anne awoke first the next morning, the sunrise just barely peering in through the window, she had forgotten about the world outside the bedroom. From her place at Diana’s side, she could make out the white snow that blanketed the ground outside. Here, too, with Diana, it was cold, and the nighttime frost had crept into the tiny bedroom and onto her lover’s skin even as they held each other closely. Anne gently squeezed her arm across Diana’s body, and almost instinctively, the latter curled into the former. 

_Should we be getting up about now, while everyone is still asleep?_ Diana whispered   
_It is cold_ , Anne said, shivering on the last word as she uncurled from Diana. Her bare breasts fell out from beneath the mess of blankets, and Diana could just make out the bruise that was forming from her antics only hours before.

 _I think I can take care of that_ , said Diana, and she sunk beneath the covers to warm Anne up.

**Author's Note:**

> uh, this is the first time I set out to write smut instead of working around a plot or making it bittersweet and sad, so there’s that? please let me know i am at least headed in the right direction. 
> 
> Diana’s intimate act is pretty explicitly inspired by a definition from david levithan's THE LOVER'S DICTIONARY, which I thought was the most romantic thing ever as a teenager and still sits with me to this day. everything about it being cold is inspired by “cold poem” by mary oliver, "going to scotland" by the mountain goats, and one first date where the heat was broken.


End file.
